


Tear Your Little World Apart

by athenadykes



Category: Blaseball (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Death, Drinking, Drug Use, Grief/Mourning, Hotels, Incineration, Kansas City Breath Mints (Blaseball Team), Motorcycles, Other, Post Season 4, Swearing, Swimming Pools, Vaping, its energy drinks mixed with vodka. she doesn't talk about the vodka but its there, like lots of vaping its leach idk what you expected, the drugs is just weed but better safe than sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:27:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29440437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/athenadykes/pseuds/athenadykes
Summary: It’s Season 4 Day 55 when it happens:Rogue Umpire incinerated Eduardo Ingram! Replaced by Lenny Spruce.And in an instant Leach has lost her husband, the only being she’s ever known that knows her inside and out and like the back of their own hand, whose love was an immutable law of the universe. She has to mourn his incineration at the hands of people who don’t even care about them.She’s not very good at it.
Relationships: Leach Ingram/Eduardo Ingram
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	1. The End

**Author's Note:**

> If the title of this fic is from Vow by Garbage no it isn't (yes it is).

She knew that they weren’t gonna remain untouched forever. It’s Blaseball, it’s a game of inches. Numbers. Players. People.

Death.

Leach was no stranger to death. She knew it was never the end, she’s always known-- being a Lich will do that for you-- but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. That doesn’t mean that she doesn’t feel the slightest bit guilty when she sees the Ump look just the wrong way at Whit, soulless and empty, and in an instant Whit’s turned to ash. Their fearless and sometimes too cocky team captain, gone too soon. Or maybe not soon enough. Maybe that was a shitty thing to think about, but maybe if he’d gotten out sooner he wouldn’t have had to deal with the neverending cycle that is this stupid game that they can’t escape from.

Stew’s nice enough, and she knew Whit. She understood why everyone was so somber finishing the game and why no one cared if they lost. Season 4, Day 14 wasn’t going to be forgotten so easily.

But life moves on, and so does the season. Eddie finds her and she nods wordlessly in their direction, they didn’t need to talk now in front of everyone, but they had time. They always had time for each other. The pair said bye to the rest of the Mints, each in their own varying stages of grief and set off into the night, leaving nothing behind but a trail of smoke coming out the exhaust pipe of her bike.

She lets Eddie lead the way. She doesn’t know where they’re going but that’s part of the thrill. The fresh KC air on her bones helped to clear her thoughts. Riding cleanses her soul-- but riding with Eddie gives her purpose. He always knows how to make it interesting, and tonight he’s decided to go at lightning fast speeds, smirking at her as he rushes ahead of her. Leach shook her head and laughed. 

_So that’s how it was gonna be tonight_ , she thought and revved up her bike before increasing the speed, driving recklessly without a care in the world. He could guide her to the ends of the Earth and back with her eyes closed and she would trust him to keep her safe, speeding on the at present (mostly) empty highway was obviously ok and so totally radical.

It was nice to be loved like this, so fully and completely and to know that you are always loved by someone out there. To know that even if he left or if they were apart that they would always find a way back to each other. 

She opens her eyes again and she can feel Eddie slowing down before she even sees him turn into the parking lot. When she looks up she sees the glowing light of the 11-7, and she smiles to herself. He always knows where to take her to cheer her up. When Eddie lands he looks up at her and smiles, then takes her hand and leads her into the convenience store. They don’t say anything as they each collect their favorite after game snacks, Eddie getting coffee from the self serve counter and a small bag of trail mix (peanut free, just in case) and Leach grabbing a bag of beef jerky before heading to the Slorpee machine to get her favorite Mountain Dlew and Pina Colada mix. As she pulls down the lever to add a second layer of Mountain Dlew on top of the comparatively small layer of Pina Colada, Eddie walks up next to her and raises his eyebrow in concern-- nothing too alarming, it’s been rough day for both of them, it’s more a question than anything. She shook her head as she stopped the stream just before it reached the top, then reached for a straw over Eddie’s head.

“There’s no need to worry Ed, the second layer’s not for me, it’s for Whit. Mountain Dlew was his favorite drink too, you know. I think it was the first thing we ever really bonded over.” She doesn’t mention that she’d rather be drinking Mlonster instead, but she knows it would worry him if she did. So the Mountain Dlew it was-- and it wasn’t like she was lying about Whit. She would never lie about him. Especially not after…

Well it didn’t matter. She just wouldn’t lie about her buddy and beloved team captain like that. Her and her husband walked hand in hand to the counter and put their things on for some uninterested kid to scan and put into a bag. She noticed that he had already gotten a couple of those cheap taquitos from the warmer and if she had had a heart she knew it would’ve swelled. They leave the store with snacks in hand and go to Leach’s bike, moving it to an emptier part of the parking lot so they can turn it to face the highway, sitting down to eat their snacks in comfortable silence. 

They sit for a while, just content to be near each other and knowing that they’re still real and still together even when it seems like nothing else is and death could get them at any moment. It isn’t until Eddie’s halfway through his coffee when she says something.

“Hey Ed?”

“Yes Leach?”

“Where do you think blaseball players go when they die?”

Eddie thinks for a moment before responding, “I don’t know, maybe it’s just the end for all of us and there’s nowhere TO go”

“So like this, the immaterial plane, is just the final plane of existence?” Leach asks in a cautious tone. There seemed to be something… strange about the immaterial plane but she can’t quite put her finger on it. She’s lived many lifetimes-- most of them with her husband-- and she hasn’t felt ANYTHING like this, let alone experienced it. She sipped her slurpee and sighed before turning back to him.

“Ed, I don’t think this is the end, there _has_ to be something else out there for us. For…” she trailed off and looked back at the cars. She couldn’t even bring herself to say it.

“For Whit, you mean.”

Leach nods solemnly and scoots closer to him. “The blaseball gods-- the Shelled One or whatever that egotistical peanut is-- they wouldn’t let us off that easy. I mean, if it was the end then I think we’d both _know_ , you know? I mean with your whole seraphim and my whole, you know, being an undead being we’d figure it out.”

“But you’ll always be here- WE’LL always be here. Even if it is the end it’ll never be the end for _us_ because we’re going to keep living.”

“We can’t promise that. You know that, Ed. Blaseball’s fucked up. I mean, look what happened to Whit today. None of us are immune– hell even I'M not immune.” 

Eddie looks concerned and dejected. Whit’s death really _was_ weighing down on him, even if he didn’t show it. 

“But–” she took a deep breath, she had to reassure herself just as much as Eddie needed to be reassured– “we will always be. I know that doesn’t make sense, or I don’t know, is grammatically correct or whatever, and maybe it’s silly but what I’m TRYING to say is that even if one of us is gone that doesn’t change anything about THIS. About us.”

He breaths, then nods. “Our love is one of the immutable facts of the universe.”

She smiles back at him and takes his hand. “Our love is one of the immutable facts of the universe.”

They sit there in the Sleven Eleven parking lot with their slurpees and cheap taquitos and watch the cars pass, knees barely touching with backs against Leach’s motorcycle. It’s a quiet night in Kansas City, but it feels louder than any other night she’s ever experienced. Maybe they weren’t ok, but she had Eddie and that’s all she needed to be ok. She pulls out her old vape pen and takes a deep breath, holding the smoke deep in her lungs before exhaling. She holds it out to Eddie, who politely declines, and leans her head against his shoulder before taking another hit.

“This hits for Whit” she feels him squeeze her hand, when she looks up at him he’s smiling. She shoots him a quizzical glance before he shakes his head and lets out a small laugh.

“That’s pretty good, maybe we should get the rest of the team to say it. But in a non-vape way. Like we hit the ball for him”

God he was so awkward but it was so endearing. She gave him a kiss on the cheek, which she then realized was wet with tears, and smiled.

“Yeah. I think that’d be good. We’ll tell 'em tomorrow. For now, let's go home and get through the day.” With that she stands up and pulls Eddie off the ground and wraps his arm around her waist. She revs up her bike and in an instant they’re nothing but tail lights in the warm Kansas City night.

\----------------

The season’s rough. They had started alright but now NO ONE could focus on the game, even Leach could feel her performance slipping-- and she didn’t even care about how good she was. Team meetings were stinted, interactions were short and curt, everyone had their own way of coping and apparently none of the Breath Mints really knew how to do it well. Not that they were given any time to process, blaseball doesn’t allow for time to process. The game is all that matters and they all know that.

Leach was just doing what she always did, skipping out on games as much as she could, vaping in the shed after games and running around the town with Eddie by her side. She tried to skip out on after game Denny’s but Ed told her that’d be inconsiderate and that she (she knew he meant _they_ , it was something in the way that he said it that made her realize that this was his own quiet way of letting her know what he needs, and she thanked him silently for that) should care about the team even when they’re going through a rough patch.

The games blurred together, they always did in blaseball and they always made her feel like she was nothing more than an arm attached to a ball, but this season made her feel like she was nothing more than a machine. She took the time to laugh a little to herself at the irony of that, one of her worst seasons and she felt like she was closer to Axel than anything. She wondered how he was feeling about Whit’s death, maybe they should reach out to him. Didn’t matter really, the game doesn’t care about people just numbers and their stupid little stars. 

It felt like Whit had only been gone for moments, hours really, but before she knew it 40 games had come to pass. She could feel herself slipping, and Eddie tried to keep her from drowning in her sorrow but it was hard. It was hard for both of them, especially when she could still see Whit in the corner of her eye flossing in the open meadow, when she felt like she could still see him talking to Boyfriend about Justice and hear him complimenting Izzie’s cookies.

It’s day 55 of season 4 and Leach doesn’t want to be here in the dugout. To be fair, she never does, but she wants the season to be over. They’re barely halfway through and she’s tired. Is this what it feels like to lose someone that means so much to you? How many more times will they have to endure this? She’s dealt with death her entire existence, she doesn’t get why it’s affecting her so much. This should be a pebble in a vast ocean of death and yet she couldn’t help but mourn his loss. Maybe it was because the rest of the team was being hit hard. Maybe it was because it was the first one.

But death was inevitable. It’ll get easier in time. And as long as she had Ed she knew she’d be ok.

She lets out a puff of smoke and sighs. It’s not like she was paying attention to the game anyways, just the same old shit day after tireless day. It’s stupid that they have to even play the game, but she doesn’t have anything better to do and Betmint requires that she at least shows up to the games she doesn’t pitch. She’s about to stand up and go wander off somewhere else until the end of the game-- it’s not like she’s needed any time soon-- when she sees Eddie smile at her from the outfield. She sits back down next to Winnie and turns her attention to the game. She knew Eddie liked it when she watched him play, and truth be told she loved watching him. What could she say, he was handsome when he caught the ball.

It’s the bottom of the 5th and nothing much has happened. It’s a slow game, and playing the Tacos is usually a walk in the park but today they seem to be struggling. Pretty low scoring all around, and PDZ is looking as flustered as ever on the mound trying to find the right angle to pitch. Poor kid, she’d have to give her another lesson sometime soon on how to stop caring about what other people think.

But she seemed to be doing alright, the guy up to bat-- she wasn’t sure of his name, Kravitz or something?-- had already gotten a strike and PDZ was getting ready to throw again. Leach turned her attention to Eddie again on third. There wasn’t even anyone on base, but he was still so focused on the game. It was something she admired in him. He moves a bit, adjusting his position on the base, and as he does so he throws her another sly look and winks at her.

It’s when he winks when he realizes what’s happening.

When he turns to the side and sees the beam fire at him.

When he looks back at her with fear in his eyes with the words “I love you” on his lips.

Leach is on her feet in an instant, trying to climb her way out of the dugout and onto the field-- to _him_ and she’s screaming, she can hear herself wailing with hot tears falling down her face. She can feel someone’s hands on her-- Winnie’s? Maybe it’s two people-- she doesn’t really care-- and she’s clawing her way to the field and she almost makes it before she’s finally pulled back to the bench. She distantly hears Winnie tell her that she’s just gonna get herself killed too and she can hear the voice in her head saying that she doesn’t _care_ about that she just wants to be _next to him_ and to hold him again. The sound of the announcer’s voice worms its way into her thoughts, screaming as loud as anything.

**Rogue Umpire incinerated Breath Mints hitter Eduardo Ingram! Replaced by Lenny Spruce.**

So that was it then. He was really gone and there was really a tree standing on third base-- on _Eddie,_ she reminds herself. Standing on him like he’s nothing more than the dirt on their feet. Leach feels the eyes of every one of her teammates burning into her, in a mixture of anger and guilt and pity. She should know how they all react to grief already, but seeing their faces directed at her just makes her angry. She looks around at everyone’s faces-- Marq frozen in horror next to Stew looking solemn but still with that look of pity and Boyfriend on the verge of tears.

She sees Polkadot on the mound staring at her wide eyed and terrified, looking like a deer in headlights and about to crumble with the weight of the guilt on their shoulders.They have tears in their eyes, though they’re obviously trying to mask it, and they’re about to say something when they remember they have a game to play and turn back to face the plate. She fumbles the ball but still manages to get a strike, saying nothing and doing nothing to acknowledge it after.

Leach screams one last time and curses loudly, not caring if Betmint or the Umps or even the fucking gods for all she cares hears her. Hewitt looks about ready to run to her from the field and Winnie tries to pull her back to the bench before she pushes her off.

“Just fucking let me go! I don’t want to see ANY OF YOU and your STUPID SYMPATHY! You could never understand what we… what _he_ meant to me. So just fuck off and let me GO!” she yells at the horse and runs out of the dugout. If the umps wanted to incinerate her they could do it for all she cared, but she guessed they didn’t care about anything but the game. They didn’t care that these players were living breathing creatures with people they loved and cared about- that they were more than a stupid game.

She kept running until she reached the far end of the parking lot where she had parked her bike, tossing her leg over and revving it up without thinking.

She took off into the night without looking back, tears streaming in the wind of Infinite Los Angeli as she realized that there was no one left for her on this plane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This is my first blaseball fic! I've been working on this since October and I'm SO glad I could get it out before the siesta finished! Eddie and Leach mean the World To Me and were some of the first players I ever loved in blaseball back when basically the only thing their wiki's said was that their love was an immutable law of the universe.
> 
> There is much to say but I cannot think of how to say it, so I will stop. But thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed it!


	2. The New Age

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What do you do after the love of your life gets incinerated?
> 
> Run away to a hotel and drown your sorrows, that's what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi this chapter is SIGNIFICANTLY longer than the first, and is the majority of the fic. That being said there are some pretty serious content warnings to get through:
> 
> Complex Discussion on (her) Death that Borders on Suicide Ideation (but isn't)- This is very complicated to describe but in the beginning of the fic she spends a lot of time talking about how she thinks she is going to die before the end of the season. She does NOT actively wish to die, she just thinks she is. This is in relation to a specific head canon I have that the Ingram deaths often follow closely behind each other, so she genuinely has reason to believe that it is going to happen. When she does not, in fact, die she is shown as being confused and heartbroken but she doesn't become suicidal after the fact. This is a weird line that I am toeing here, so I wanted to give people proper warning before reading this. It is only mentioned in the first few paragraphs of the fic, so it is easily skippable if need be.
> 
> Drug Use/Alcohol- Leach vapes because she is Leach Ingram, but she is also shown smoking weed. She does all this while drinking something she refers to as "the potion" which is a drink that you should never try at home because it WILL kill you. It is Monster, Red Bull, Four Loko, AND (usually, in this case probably) vodka. Please don't try this at home she is a lich and also fake so she won't die but holy crap you might if you drink it. She is depicted as drinking this... concoction throughout the first half of the chapter.
> 
> Discussions of Grief- thats just the whole fic
> 
> Bad Coping Mechanisms- again, the whole fic. she is shown isolating herself and ruining relationships (or trying to). 
> 
> Brief Body Horror- just describing how PDZ looks, she is someone who grows her own flesh and organs and body and stuff and I describe what it looks like when she shows up in the fic.
> 
> Please take care of yourself and read at your own risk. Hewitt and Burke both use He/Him pronouns and PDZ uses She/They in this fic and will be referred to as such. Now with that, here's my sad wife :')

In every lifetime they’ve lived before this when one of them died, the other always followed soon after. There would always be some sort of freak accident they’d get involved in or some disease they would succumb to in a few years at the most. It had always been like that, neither could explain it anymore than they could explain their love.

So she waits, knowing that death would come for her soon.

Leach makes an effort to make herself scarce when she’s not playing. She pitches the game the day after he dies and she can’t help but feel bitter. The anger she felt at the gods is barely contained, and she considers letting it out to provoke an Ump but Ed would never want that for her and she knows it’s not worth it. Incineration was never pretty. So she keeps it in check. Breaths in as she throws the ball to who knows where-- not like she cares about her performance,  _ especially _ after her husband just DIED-- and cautiously avoids looking over towards third. They still had another game in Al Pastor Memorial Park the next day and she wasn’t sure she’d be able to stand being there again, so she leaves after the game and just drives to wherever their next series was gonna be hardly even saying goodbye.

The Mints try to call her every day. She never picks up the phone, there’s no point in getting closer to them if she knows her end is coming soon. She doesn’t want to hurt them in the process.

It isn’t until the season ends and blessings come and she still hasn’t died when she realizes that there is no end coming for her.

When day 99 comes and nothing happens she loses it. She knows she’s on the bench and the chances were next to nothing but it wasn’t FAIR! Why did he have to go without her? 

Why did he have to leave her?

She throws her glove down and heads straight for the parking lot-- it didn’t matter anyways, so what if it was rude to leave the game without shaking the other team’s hand? It’s not like she played anyways. Besides, if the gods got angry then let them be angry! She didn’t fucking care!

Leach is almost at the edge of the parking lot where she parked her bike (she remembers how his arms had felt around her the night before when he said that he loves it when she drives as fast as she can and he knows that he’ll be safe because she would never put him in danger. He forgot to mention that blaseball had been her idea in the first place) and she keeps her head down, jacket collar popped so no one could tell it was her. She can see her bike a hundred feet away when she could feel a hand on her shoulder.

“And  _ where _ exactly do you think you’re going?” Boyfriend looked at her with their many eyes, concern clear on their face.

“That’s none of your concern Boyf” she tries to wrestle out of their grip so she can get out of this place and never look back, but they pull her closer and grab her hand.

“Leach please, we just want to  _ help _ . I know that we can’t really understand how much Eddie meant to you but we’re  _ worried _ about you. You haven’t been picking up our calls and you haven’t been to an after game dinner since…” they trailed off and cast their eyes downward. They didn’t really know how to handle the situation delicately, or in a way that wouldn’t make Leach even more upset than she was. 

“Since what? Since he  _ died _ , Boyf? It’s fine, you can say it. I KNOW he’s dead-- believe me I know-- you don’t have to skirt around the issue. It’s fine, I’M fine. I deal with death all the time. It's nothing special. I’ll get over it.”  _ Damn they’re strong _ , she thinks as she tries to break free from their grasp once again.

“Yeah Leach since he died. You’re not the only one who was affected by his death, ok? And Whit’s. Look, I know you didn’t take Whit’s death well, so I can’t even imagine how--”

“That’s fucking RIGHT! You CAN’T imagine how I feel because  _ I  _ don’t even know how I feel! You have  _ never _ known what it’s like to have the only person who could ever complete you just outright  _ die _ in front of you!” she hadn’t really either in their many years of existence, but they didn’t need to know that, “Boyfriend, there is nothing that you or ANY of the mints can do because you’re right! You’re always right! He’s gone and that’s a part of me that is gone for good and yeah I’m panicking but I sure as hell don’t need YOUR help. So you can fuck! Right! Off! And GO AWAY!” They falter a bit and briefly loosen their grip, she takes her chance and shoves them away from her, nearly pushing them to the ground.

It’s at this moment when she sees the rest of the mints starting to file out of the stadium, and she’s filled with a wave of emotions. Guilt, anger, fear, and just an overwhelming SADNESS crash down on her all at once and she can feel herself starting to cry as she screams one final “FUCK OFF” and runs to her bike. She revs it up and takes to the streets without looking back. She’s on the highway in no time (the highway where she drove with Eddie so many times before, where they drove to that Sleven Eleven right there and he was so worried that she’d leave him, never once thinking that it’d be him that left her and  _ god _ why was it so hard to breath right now) and within the hour she’s far away from Yellowstone, and in no time it seems she’s back in Kansas City. Without Ed. 

She doesn’t even stop by the Meadow to pick anything up; she just  _ keeps driving _ just a bit further and faster until suddenly she’s in front of the nearest Subpar 7, checking in for the night. An indefinite amount of time really. She doesn’t see herself going back anytime soon. 

\----------------------------------

The past day has been nothing but awful. But none of that matters when NOTHING matters anymore. God. She didn’t even make sense anymore. Oh well, it’s not like there was anyone who she needed to make sense for.

She stumbles out of bed, still wearing her uniform and leather jacket, and almost trips on the crushed cans of Mlonster littered around the bed. It looked like the aftermath of some college rager, garbage all over the floor and the furniture all out of place. Some of it’s probably broken in all likelihood. It’s fine, the ILB pays good when family members die.

Fuck.

It doesn’t get easier huh.

Leach gets in the shower, clothes on (minus her jacket, Ed gave her that and she’d hate to ruin it), and just stands there with the water hot on her bones. Is this what being alone was? It’d been so long since she hadn’t had someone to talk to when she was thinking too much (or when she needed a hug or someone to just tell her she was alright, entirely unprompted and catching her by surprise) that she didn’t really know what it felt like anymore. Of course when Ed had been there they took breaks from each other and spent time away from each other-- that’s part of what being a healthy couple is-- but that’s not being  _ alone _ , really, because she always knew that there’d be someone to go back to. It’s hard to fully grasp what being alone means when you haven’t been given the chance to in hundreds of years. Maybe even thousands, who really knew.

She wonders if all Leach’s across all timelines have to go through this. She wonders how they managed to figure out what comes next, or how to keep going, or what the hell they were thinking when their Eddie’s died.

Leach steps out of the shower and pats herself dry. The clothes are still wet but so what. She had a change of clothes in the bag on her bike but she sure as hell didn’t feel like changing. She puts the jacket back on and traces the patches Eddie made for her, admiring the work put into it. She remembers how secretive he was about the project, trying to hide all the embroidery floss in a corner of the bookshelf filled with trinkets he kept from their various vacations (and stadium merch, she thinks bitterly. He always liked that crap that other teams sold as commemorative items, and he made it a point to buy something from every new stadium they played in) but not well enough she couldn’t find it, and the half finished patches still in the embroidery hoops-- a bit messy but so unmistakably Eddie’s that she couldn’t help but love them. Now they’re just a reminder of what she’s lost. 

She picks at the edges of the patches, tempted to just rip them off and burn them with the rest of the jacket because she’s ANGRY, but she reminds herself that Eddie wouldn’t want her to destroy anything. And that anger isn’t an emotion that should be acted out on without thinking like this. And she’d regret getting rid of things that he gave her-- that he  _ made _ for her. It just  _ hurt _ and she wanted it to stop hurting and there wasn’t any other way to make it stop.

Well, she could think of at least one other way. She pulls out her pen and takes a hit. Usually she vaped souls, but today it was just regular cartridges. Also maybe cannabis cartridges. She needed a distraction from just how much she was feeling and this seemed to be working pretty well. She lets out a puff of lime green smoke (benefits of being a lich is that everything looks cooler when you do it) and collapses on the bed. She flips the tv on and doesn’t pay attention. It’s just some stupid soap opera she’s never heard of, nothing to write home about, so she takes another hit off her pen and stares at the ceiling, trying to vibe her way out of this.

(Eddie got her this pen)

(Fuck. Guess she couldn’t even vape in peace huh.)

She lies there for a while, staring at the ceiling, listening to the infomercials (a commercial for a set of knives for just $19.99 shouldn’t hurt this much but she almost bursts into tears when the too fake model shows off the knife block. She wonders how Justice is doing.) and vaping while eating her second family sized bag of Dloritos of the day and chugging enough Mlonster/Red Blull/Four Loko potion to kill a man. Trying not to think about Eddie and how he’d stop her from doing all this if he were there.

She doesn’t know how long she’s been there, half comatose and high just lying on the bed and on the brink of tears when she vaguely hears a knock on the door. Probably just the receptionist or housekeeping or whatever. If she ignores it maybe they’ll go away. She closes her eyes to try and drown out the sound of knocking and focus on Wheel of Fortune. Someone asks to purchase a vowel when the knocking comes back even louder than before, this time accompanied by a voice.

“Leach it’s me. Open the door.” Fuck. That’s Hewitt. He probably brought the rest of the team to do some group therapy shit with her. How the hell did he even find her? 

“Don’t worry, I’m alone. I’d never bring a bunch of people and invade your privacy anymore than I already am. I just wanna talk.” He sounded genuine enough. She darts her eyes to the bathroom and briefly wonders if she could escape through the vents, before realizing that’s a stupid idea. 

“I’m not gonna make you let me in, however if you don’t I’m just gonna sit out here until you talk to me. You don’t even have to let me in to do that, just let me say my piece and go.” Hew uses his union voice when he says it, the one that’s filled with conviction and determination all bottled up to burst from the little man. It’s a voice that’s been used to inspire dozens of people and been known to make bosses shake at the knees a bit. There really was no getting out of this one.

Leach pushes herself off the bed (a little too fast and she stumbles when she gets up from the dizziness, crashing into the nightstand and knocking some stuff over. If Ed were there he’d have caught her and just laughed it off with a smile and a joke. She takes another hit.) and makes her way to the door. She takes a deep breath and puts on her most convincing smile before opening the door.

“What do you want.”

“You haven’t been picking up the phone and we got worried. So I took matters into my own hands”

“That doesn’t explain why you’re here”

“Just here to drop off some of the things I thought you might want from the shed. Had a feeling you wouldn’t wanna go back there, so I got you some clothes and stuff.” He hands her a duffel full of stuff, she takes it and throws it in the corner somewhere. She’ll look through it later.

“That’s all? You said you had to tell me something”

“It’s kind of a few somethings. I just wanted to check in. And tell you about the team. Only if you want though. Not all of it’s super important but there’s a couple things I think you should hear. We also don’t… have to talk about what happened.” She thinks for a second and weighs in her options. If she lets him in he’ll probably try and get her to come back to the stadium and to the mints. But if she doesn’t he’ll stand there until he says what he needs to and she  _ listens _ . Stubborn bastard.

She invites him inside and gestures at the mess of her room. He doesn’t comment on it, but he silently moves aside some of the assorted crushed energy drink cans (Four Loko? Really Leach? And is that an empty bottle of vodka? They were gonna have to talk about this sometime) and sits in the chair by the window. Leach sits on the bed and stares at the TV. She takes another sip of the Potion and another hit. She’s lost count of how many she’s taken in the last hour alone, but she’s sure it’s a lot. Hew would probably say too many, but this isn’t about him.

“You know, Boyf is really upset.”

“Oh really? Well maybe they shouldn't have gotten into my personal business then.”

“That’s not why, Leach.”

“Then what is it? Please,  _ enlighten _ me. If they didn’t want to get hurt they shouldn’t have said anything to me. It’s not like--”

Hewitt lets out a frustrated noise and scoffs. “It’s not like what, Leach? It’s not like they  _ care _ about you? Like  _ any of us _ care? Boyfriend might’ve been the first to come up to you because that’s just how they are but do you think the rest of us aren’t  _ worried _ ? Let alone filled with grief over not just one but  _ two _ players? Have you even thought about that?”

“Of  _ course _ I have Hewitt! But I don’t  _ care _ ! And quit it with this guilt trip bullshit I’m not gonna come back and do your stupid group therapy with the rest of the team and you can’t make me go back there with you. I paid for this fucking hotel room and I’m going to STAY here. So if that’s all then you can leave thank you.” She moves to open the door and escort him out but he stays seated, taking a deep breath before speaking again.

“Is that what you think this is about? Me trying to get you to come back?” His voice is even, but there’s something about the way he says it that makes her chest hurt. He was being so genuine that she felt  _ bad _ for lashing out.

“Well yeah, isn’t that why they sent you? I’m assuming Betmint tracked my spending and sent you out here to deal with me.” She says it so casually but it takes everything in her to stop herself from shaking with rage. The team wouldn’t even let her  _ mourn _ in peace. Like they understood anything.

“What? No? Betmint doesn’t care what you do with your money, it’s not company scrip so it doesn’t matter to him. And the team doesn’t even know I’m here. I’m here because I needed to tell you something and that’s it. And also to bring some stuff to you, but seriously, that’s it.”

She thought about this for a moment. He had no reason to lie, but it felt… unreal how ok he was with her just being here. Wallowing. Getting fucking wasted as a way to cope with the death of the one person who meant anything to her.

“And you’re sure you’re not gonna try and kidnap me and take me back to the meadow? Not even gonna try to convince me to be all one big happy family again?”

“Leach I’m not gonna make you do something you don’t want to. I’m concerned about how you’re handling a lot of this but it’s not my place to say anything, especially if you don’t  _ want _ the help. I trust that you’ll figure it out in time.” Trust huh. Well, that was something.

“Fine. If Boyfriend isn’t upset because they can’t fix me then why  _ are _ they upset?”

Hewitt’s demeanor quickly shifts from being vulnerable to his business face in an instant. It was scary how different the personas were, but she could sense how relieved he was to no longer be talking about feelings (he reminds her of Eddie when they have-- _ had,  _ she reminds herself-- to do press conferences) as he straightens his posture and clears his throat.

“Leach they’re mad because they upset you. They feel really bad about stepping in like that and they don’t know how to make it up to you. I know you don’t have to forgive them or anything but I just thought you should know that they’re feeling really bad about how that all went down. They just wanted to help and have chronic fixer syndrome, but they fucked up and now they’re filled with guilt because it wasn’t the right thing to do and they don’t know how to reconcile with it. So I guess in a sense it is them being upset that they can’t fix you, but really they’re just sorry they overstepped. ” He lets it sink in for a minute. She takes another hit and considers. She turns to him and offers the pen to Hew but he politely declines.

“Is that all?”

“Yeah that’s about it.” It’s a cautious conversation. Neither of them really knowing what to do in the moment (Ed would probably know what to say to make it less awkward. Fuck there she goes thinking of him again.) but just sitting there in each other's company. It’s weird being alone with someone for the first time in weeks, but she feels… at ease. Hew moves to stand and starts walking towards the door. He turns to face her and starts to say something, but stops himself and turns around again.

“Hewitt just spit it out. I'm not made of glass, I can take it.”

“Leach I don’t--”

“Hewitt just  _ say it _ .” She doesn’t know what he’s going to say, and she has a feeling that she won’t like it, but she trusts him. Fucking wild. She takes another hit, and makes eye contact with him. 

“I know that none of us can understand what you’re going through, and we aren’t expecting to-- or at the very least I’m not-- but shutting us out like this is only going to make things worse in the long run. As I said, I trust that you’ll figure out what you need because you know yourself and knew Eddie the best, but I don’t think he’d want you to push us away either.” He pauses for a moment before adding, “Besides, you’re gonna have to face us at some point. Even if you do want to cut yourself off emotionally, you’re still gonna have to play blaseball with us eventually. Even if you don’t like it. Or us.

“If nothing else, you can at least get some slightly healthier coping mechanisms, like journaling or something. Wallowing can only get you so far, you know. I hate using the words productive in a time of grief, it really is a symptom of capitalistic society thinking we need to contribute to society in order to be worth something, but I do think it might help so that the sadness doesn’t consume you. Again, you don’t have to take any of this into account but you should at least take it under consideration.”

She stands there, stunned at what he had just unloaded on her. Was this really the same guy who five minutes ago was awkwardly sitting across from her and squirming in his seat at the thought of emotional vulnerability? Where the hell was he hiding that kind of confidence? She’s still gawking as he exits the room, she feels like she should say something, but what the fuck? You can’t just  _ say _ that to someone who lost her husband.

“Oh and one more thing?” He looks back at her, one last time (Ed looked back at her too before he died. Fuck.) as he’s unlocking the doors of his red pickup. “PDZ is a mess. She’s been inconsolable since you left, and from what Winnie tells me she’s hardly stopped crying. If she calls you can you pick up the phone? It’s all I’m asking of you, really. It’d mean a lot to them.”

With that he gets in his truck and pulls out of the parking lot. She didn’t even get to respond to him before he left.

She’s still thinking about what he said to her when she goes back inside, wondering if he knows something she doesn’t. Maybe he’s out to get her or something, making her feel all these complex emotions or whatever. 

She wants to be mad at him.

But she sees the joint he left for her in the duffel he brought and can’t bring herself to be angry. Maybe she’ll pick up the phone if PDZ calls, just for him.

\--------------------------

Hew might’ve made her reconsider what she’s doing (if even for the briefest of moments, she still has no regrets) but not enough to stop her from actively getting white girl wasted in an effort to stop thinking about Ed.

(It wasn’t working. She remembers the first time they went to a club together and she thought he was only going to make her happy, but he shocked her when not only did he get drunk with her but out danced and out lasted her. They went home when  _ she _ was tired and it was the first reminder that he could always surprise her.)

But that’s how she ended up lying here, face down in the pool at the Subpar Seven, floating similarly to how Ed described the end of some classic book he liked. Maybe she, too, was a representation of the disillusionment of the rich and powerful, despite not being rich in the slightest. She just missed her husband.

Leach decided to keep floating aimlessly, being sad about Eddie, riding her high. Everything felt so dim and it felt like the world was ending. Maybe it was only her world. Maybe it was the end of everything.

She knew it wasn’t the end, but there was something so DIFFERENT about this plane of existence that it felt like it had to be. There was something keeping them there, that FELT like the end. Death didn’t feel the same on the immaterial plane, it felt so final and yet so shallow and stunted at the same time– like there was something preventing people from passing on entirely. Or maybe that was just the feeling of true death, one where there is no coming back eventually or allowing yourself to reappear on another plane of existence. She didn’t want to believe it, but something about it just felt so RIGHT and that’s what was so scary. Because she couldn’t sense Eddie, she couldn’t feel him there in her heart and in her soul like she always can even when he’s gone– even when he’s dead– and she was terrified. 

She just wanted to see her husband again. One last time, uninterrupted by blaseball and the game and any one else. Once more, face to face, so she can give him one last goodbye. Just one final kiss before he was gone.

Leach felt herself crying into the pool, whatever lich tears looked like, she was sure they weren’t pretty to the outside eye of hospitality workers-- especially when they made the pool look funny. She flips over onto her back and makes her way to the edge so she can chug some more of her potion (death juice, she can hear Eddie calling it in her mind. He’d hate this stuff but she didn’t want to hear Eddie’s voice in her head anymore so she slammed it down faster than before) and as she’s drinking she sees something, or rather some _ one _ , out of the corner of her eye appear seemingly out of nowhere.

She’s never seen the man in her life, and yet she feels like she knows him from somewhere. He’s tall, probably not as tall as her but what does she know from this angle, and wearing wholly inappropriate clothes for the pool. Seriously, she wasn’t one to talk wearing the random clothes Hewitt had brought her that morning but who wore a jacket to the pool? And all the rest of their clothes, for that matter. At least he was wearing sandals, with socks but that’s pretty pool appropriate she guessed. When she looked him in the eye she realized that he was mortified, like a kid who had gotten caught stealing cookies from the cookie jar. He adjusted his little glasses and turned around, trying to exit the pool room but he seemed to struggle with the door-- could he not get out or something? Who the hell was this guy, and why does he feel so familiar?

“Hey. Why the  _ hell _ are you here? Can’t you see I’m a little busy? Wallowing. Doing… stuff.” She gestured to her pile of garbage on the side of the pool, and watches as he slumps his shoulders and turns around to talk to her. He moves closer, but doesn’t go to sit down or anything. Weird, but she got the feeling that this guy was just like that.

“I could very much ask the same of  _ you _ . What are  _ you  _ doing here?” They stare at each other, trying to figure out what the other was trying to do. 

“Well if you won’t tell me why you’re here, will you at least tell me who the hell you are?”

He considers for a moment, as if wondering if he should give his name to her (reminds her a bit of Ed when he met new people, shy in a particular kind of way. Though this guy didn’t seem shy, just confused. Fuck, there she goes thinking of Ed again. She takes a hit.) and sets his stuff down on a pool chair near him. So he was staying, huh.

“Burke Gonzales. Physicist, Blaseball player.”

Oh.  _ Oh. _ That’s why he felt so fucking familiar. He was a  _ blaseball _ player. The universe really had it out to get her huh. She opens another bottle (too hard to get the stuff she mixed into cans, despite her best efforts) and takes a sip. 

“What team?”

“You haven’t even--”

“I  _ asked _ what team, old man. Just humor me. Please.” She didn’t know what she’d do if he was in the stadium that day, but it probably wouldn’t end well for either of them.

“The Wings. Mexico City Wild Wings, to be exact.”

She lets go of a breath she didn’t know she was holding in.  _ Well that’s a relief,  _ she thinks to herself _. _

“And you are..?”

“Oh right, my bad. Leach Ingram. Pitcher for the Kansas City Breath Mints.”  _ Widower extraordinaire _ , her brain unhelpfully supplies. She sees if he has any reaction to her name, any sense of pity or whatever (there had been talk about her visceral reaction to Ed’s death on the field, she had heard it at games and stuff, from both players  _ and _ fans. Some had even come right up to her and offered condolences. It took everything in her not to punch them right there) but she found that he weirdly looked just as confused as when he got here. Just who was this guy?

“Well, that’s nice. Tell me, uh, where are we?” Where were they? Was he lost? Isn’t this guy like, old? He  _ had _ to have gotten here himself somehow. 

“I don’t really know, if I’m being honest. Some deadbeat town off the highway near Kansas City I guess.”

“Oh dear. I was just trying to get to the park. Guess I overshot a little bit.” He chuckled a bit to himself, if just to hide his slightly distressed tone.

“A little bit? Ol- Burke, was it? You’re over a THOUSAND miles away from Mexico City, how the FUCK did you get this lost?”

“I don’t really know, if I’m being honest. It just… seems to happen to me. Maybe I came here intentionally and just didn’t know it until now. But guess I’m just fortunate that I’m not a pilot or anything, don’t wanna go causing problems for other people just ‘cause I have no sense of direction!” He laughs heartily at his own joke (if it could even be called that), his laugh is so contagious that it makes  _ her _ want to laugh with him. Suddenly he stops, as if remembering something, and sinks into his chair. He sighs, and regains his composure, as if trying to keep up the facade of being put together.

“Probably for the best though, I don't really want to be seen in Mexico CIty right now anyways. Too many emotions to work through.”

Well didn’t that sound familiar.

“You told me why you’re  _ here _ now, but you didn’t tell me  _ why _ you’re here.” She pushes back, just a little to see what he’ll do. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat and looks like he’s about to make a run for it, then looks to the door and decides it’s not worth it. 

“I’m assuming you heard about the elections?” She hadn’t, she’d been too busy crying in the bathroom to think about the game. If she acknowledged the election it meant the season he left her was over, and that was just another bit of distance she had from him that she didn’t want. She nods anyways.

“The Alternate Reality decree. See, when blaseball first started I was actually teleported into this world to play the game-- why, I have no clue, but it just happened one day and that was it. I thought it was over, I thought I’d never see my wife and kids again and I was broken. The Wings were alright and my roommate is fine, real nice guy, but it doesn't make up for losing your family like that. Then when the decree hit suddenly I got sent back home again, and I was right back on the mound where I remember being last, it was a few years in the future from where I last left off, but I was  _ there _ . And I pitched a real game where I  _ wasn’t _ scared of dying. 

“And I saw my wife in the crowd with my kids all grown up-- they could hardly believe it and neither could I but it was  _ them _ and I cried and I cried and we hugged each other and we were together again and everything was alright.” His voice cracks with that last sentence, she can tell he’s trying to keep it together but in a way she understands. She’d give anything to hug Ed again. (There she goes thinking about him again, and before she can start feeling sad for herself she takes a hit.)

“Leach I was there for  _ five years _ . I thought I was  _ normal _ again, or as normal as a guy can get when he’s been playing in a hell game for the past four years and separated from his family for longer counting Siesta. I was  _ happy _ again. I had a career-- two of them, as both a physicist and a professional player of some weird version of blaseball-- and in the middle of one of my games I was suddenly filled with this immense amount of dread and then I was back in the Bucket with the rest of the Wings.” He sounded so broken that she had an urge to want to comfort him. 

(Maybe that was Ed telling her what to do from beyond the grave. She didn’t do it, she takes a shot instead)

“So you ran.”

“It wasn’t really my intention, but I guess so yeah. I was having a good time with the Wings and they were asking me questions about the Alternate Reality and I was overcome with a feeling that I had to leave. I couldn’t explain it, but I just… felt like I needed to breathe I guess. Then I got in my car to take some time away from the team and well, we know how that turned out.” He looked sheepish when reminded of how he got here. At least he felt  _ some _ shame.

“That’s quite a story you got going there Ol- Burke. Sure beats some of ours back here in KC, you know Grey’s a mime you really ought to meet them someday he’d be real into you.” She’s trying to deflect and she knows it. There was a shocking amount of vulnerability being shown here and she felt like she needed to get out of the situation as fast as possible.

“Well, what are you running from?” He says it so nonchalantly that it catches her off guard. Her plan didn’t work, go figure that the physicist would figure her out.

“What? I’m not  _ running _ from anything. I just… don’t feel like talking to anyone about what happened. There’s too much history there for people to even begin to understand, and I don’t want them asking questions or thinking I can’t handle myself.” She immediately feels the need to be defensive. 

“If you’re not running then why are you here? Can’t you just tell them that?” He asks with genuine curiosity. Why couldn’t she talk to someone who was a total dick for once, she felt so compelled to just tell him  _ everything _ and she didn’t know what to make of that.

(She hadn’t felt this way since she last talked with Eddie about something serious. Since after Whit died. She never told anyone how she really felt about things, except Ed. She had trusted him with everything, now she didn’t really know how to trust other people. Why did Burke remind her of Ed? Was that weird? She takes a hit.)

But. Maybe he was right. She guessed she was running from the team.

“Alright. So maybe I am running. But it’s for good reason! The team just won’t leave me alone when I asked for space and alright, I was kinda a dick when I left but it was for good reason.” She takes a deep breath, trying to keep her voice steady before telling him. “My husband just died and I needed some air. Time alone, to think.”

She really just said it out loud, huh. At least she didn’t cry this time. Maybe this is what progress looked like.

Burke, to his credit, seems to sit with it for a while. The silence wasn’t filled with uncertainty, like it had been with Hew, but heavy with contemplation. Being a physicist does that to you, she guessed. She doesn’t know how long they’ve been sitting there in silence, but she takes a couple drinks out of pure nervousness.

“Seems we have a bit more in common than we thought, huh?”

“I wouldn’t say coming over to an alternate reality away from your wife is the  _ same _ but-”

“It’s not exact, nothing will ever be exact, but is losing your family through the dimensional travel not its own kind of death? My wife probably thinks I died, and honestly I might as well be to her- who  _ knows  _ if I’ll ever get back- and I’m mourning her like I’m sure she’s mourning me. A loss is a loss, and I’m not saying I know how you’re feeling but I am saying I can understand what you’re feeling, at least a bit.” He said with a startling calmness. She hadn’t thought of it like that and suddenly she felt bad for objecting. She opened her mouth to apologize, but he waved his hand as if to dismiss her.

“No need to apologize, it happens. It’s not easy to understand but you get used to it, eventually.” She couldn’t tell if he was talking about switching dimensions or missing his wife, but it felt… oddly comforting regardless.

“How can you get used to it when they meant the world to you? How does it get easier?” There's a silent  _ please _ at the end, desperate that he understands what she’s trying to ask. That she wants to know how he got over it, the first time at least, even if he’s going through it all over again.

“It doesn’t” When he says that her heart almost breaks, she can feel the ache in her chest growing, and she’s about to start bawling when he continues, “But you learn to adapt and work around your grief. I mean who knows, maybe it’s different the second time around, but the first time? I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I couldn’t stop thinking about the  _ kids _ . And I thought that if I could stop thinking about them then I’d feel less sad, if I just tried not to remember then I wouldn’t feel anything about them.

“But then I realized that that was a ridiculous standard to hold myself to. I couldn’t just try and  _ forget _ someone who I had spent so much of my life with because that would be disrespectful to  _ her _ , no matter how awful I felt when I remembered what being with her was like. Or what her favorite color is or her favorite recipe of mine is or what habits she didn’t like,” he looks pointedly at the bottles scattered at the side of the pool and looks her in the eye, before starting again.

”I am reminded of her every moment that I am alive, and reminded of my kids even more than that’s even possible, but I’m also reminded that I existed before her and I exist without her. But I  _ never _ forget her, and I can hear her all the time, and it makes me ache for a time where I wasn’t alone and I wasn’t so sad all the time, but her voice is just a part of me now. I’m sure you know what I mean. Listening to that voice is something I’ve taken to as a way of reminding myself that I love her, but remembering that she’s gone. It isn’t easy, and it isn’t perfect, but it’s what I’ve got.” 

With that he stands up and gathers his things, leaving Leach behind, awestruck and barely even processing what he said. He moves to the door and frowns when he realizes he doesn’t remember how to get out. He tries to push it open but it won’t budge, and when Leach snaps out of her daze and notices she all but leaps out of the pool, tripping over bottles and slipping on the tiled floor, rushing over to help him. She pulls on the handle and holds it open for him, and he nods to her as a sign of thanks.

As he’s leaving the pool, she grabs onto his sleeve of the coat he’s still wearing and looks down at him. 

“I-” She didn’t know why she stopped him from leaving. She didn’t really know what to say. She takes a deep breath and just says the first thing that comes to mind.

“Will we see each other again?” It seems to catch him off guard, strange, considering they had just had a more intimate conversation than she’d had with pretty much anyone on her own blaseball team

“I don’t know. We’re in completely different leagues, but the chance of us playing each other isn’t completely zero, even if we are in different positions in the rotation.”

“Right. Right.” Damn, she forgot about blaseball and its stupid rules. But if this was the only interaction they’d ever have, she didn’t regret it. Burke was a decent guy, all things considered. He clears his throat, and she looks back at him.

“If I may? I want to thank you, Leach. For everything. For letting me just… talk like this. It’s nice, having a stranger listen to your thoughts. I should probably get back home though, it seems I got myself pretty lost. But… maybe one day we’ll see each other on the field. Alive, I hope. But until then, I must say goodbye.” With that she lets his sleeve go, and they wave goodbye. 

She throws the bottles out before she even gets back to her room. Old man had a point, maybe she should start listening to Ed instead of running from him.

That night she dreams of the first time they danced together, under the stars and listening to music on some shitty portable radio. She remembers feeling like they could just be in each other's arms forever and they’d never tire. She remembers feeling like they were infinite. When she wakes up she cries, but this time she doesn’t try to stop herself.

She should try catharsis more often.

\---------------------------------------

Leach wakes up with a pounding headache to the sound of a quiet knocking on her door. There’s still crap on the floor, to no one’s surprise, but she guessed that the only thing keeping her from having a massive crash these past few days has been the fact that she’s drunk nothing but that fucked up potion she made for herself. She grabs the nearest bottle of Mountain Dlew and drinks like her life depends on it, when she hears the knocking again, this time accompanied with a soft voice, barely loud enough to hear.

“Hey, um, Leach? Are you in there? It’s ok if you’re not, uh, Hewitt just said this is where you were staying and I needed to talk to you.” Fuck, that’s PDZ. Guess she’s getting started on the whole emotional vulnerability thing early today.

Or, well, at noon.

She briefly wonders when Eddie will be out of the bathroom, before remembering that there is no Eddie to wonder about. She resists the urge to shove down the sadness and tries to make her peace with it when she opens the door.

Oh geez. The poor kid looked like shit.

PDZ obviously couldn’t have come alone- she can’t even drive- but there wasn’t a certain red pick up truck anywhere in sight. Or any of the other mint’s cars for that matter. Guess they dropped her off and left her there. Her eyes were red from crying and it looked like she hadn’t slept in  _ days _ . There was also less of them there than usual, less skin, more bones and muscle tissue exposed than usual. They hadn’t looked this bent out of shape since she had first inhabited Dottie’s old skin.

She invites them in wordlessly, and clears a spot on the bed for her to sit. It’s silent, but Leach starts to pick up some of the trash on the floor. Listen to Eddie. What would he want you to do right now. She’d have to find a way to thank Burke sometime.

“So, uh, how have you been.”

“Just awful. My husband died and I’m being forced to carry on without him so you know, it’s not exactly sunshine and rainbows over here.”

“Right, yeah. Sorry that was stupid” another awkward silence. Leach drinks some more Mountain Dlew. She really didn’t want to have to deal with the team’s bullshit guilt trips to get her to come back.

“Um, lovely weather we’re having! It’s nice you, you know, not have peanuts raining down on us all the time. Or having to avoid looking at the sun during a solar eclipse haha.” PDZ tries to start up the conversation again, Leach just rolls her eyes. She doesn’t have time for this.

“PDZ if you don’t have anything to say then the door is right there. I don’t want to talk to anyone and I’m not coming back anytime soon, it’s just like what I told Hew. So if you don’t mind..?” She gestures to the door, expecting her to get up and leave. 

She stands there with her arm extended towards the door when she realizes that they have tears in their eyes. She’s about to say something when PDZ blurts out:

“I’m sorry!” 

Well that was unexpected. She tries to say something but PDZ cuts her off with a loud sob.

“Leach I- I don’t even know what to say. I know I was the pitcher that day and it was up to  _ me _ to keep the team safe and not bother the umps and I’m so so sorry and I don’t even know how I can make it up to you I just- I know this is my fault and if I had just been paying close enough attention, or maybe if I had pitched just a bit better than the ump wouldn’t have been so bored or WHATEVER they were thinking when they killed him. If I hadn’t been so bad then maybe he’d still be here and you wouldn’t be avoiding us and I know it’s my fault and I can’t take it back and-” It’s at this point where she starts bawling her eyes out, their whole body racked with sobs and trembling. She’s still trying to say more apologies, talking about all the ways that she could’ve saved Eddie- saved  _ her _ from feeling this pain- and how she  _ let _ him die.

Leach wants to be mad at her. She wants to agree with what she’s saying, place the blame on her for being so careless as to piss off an ump by pitching just one too many balls or whatever goes on in their fucked up minds. She wants to yell and scream and curse them out.

But she finds that she can’t bring herself to.

And in that same moment she can feel herself sitting on the bed next to them and wrapping her arms around her-- around another  _ anyone _ since his death. She’s petting their hair and giving them the biggest hug she can, and they  _ melt _ into her, immediately crumbling. She’s sobbing into her shoulder and Leach starts whispering in her ear, telling her she’s got her and she’s not going to let go.

When PDZ has calmed down a bit she hands them some tissues so they can blow their nose properly. She puts her hands on her shoulders and starts talking.

“Listen here Zavala. I want you to look me in the eyes when I say this and to not interrupt me, got it?” She nods and blows her nose one last time before turning to make eye contact. Leach takes a deep breath and continues.

“You  _ can’t _ blame yourself for what happened to Eddie. You  _ can’t _ ”

“But-”

“No buts! PDZ you have to understand something, and that is that you can’t control everything,  _ especially _ in blaseball. What happened to Ed? That wasn’t anyone’s fault but the Umps and the gods that made them. It’s not your fault, and it’s definitely not Eddie’s fault. You know, I’ve pitched  _ way _ more balls than you and have you ever seen me blame myself for what’s happened to anyone? Of course not.”  _ It’s not anyone’s fault _ . She repeats it to herself a few times to let it sink in. It’s not his fault, or her fault, or PDZ’s fault, or anyone’s. The gods and the game are to blame, that’s all.

“Leach, I-” she struggles with what to say next, but she finds the words after thinking about it for a bit. “How can you not feel some sort of, I don’t know, resentment towards me? You  _ have _ to feel SOMETHING about this or you wouldn’t…” they trail off sniffling, not wanting to say the wrong thing or upset her. Leach shakes her head and lets out a half hearted laugh.

“You know, I’ll let you in on a secret. I wanted to be angry at you, I really did.” When she says it, PDZ's eyes go wide, and she looked like she might cry again, but Leach continued, “BUT- and there’s a very big but- I couldn’t bring myself to even begin to be mad at you. I realized that blaming you for things we have  _ no _ control over is pointless, and it gets us nowhere. It’s not your fault and it never will be. I’m not mad, I’m not angry or disappointed or anything-- in fact none of my emotions have anything to do with you right now, PDZ. If that’s comforting at all. I just needed time, and I’ve never been in a situation like this before and it hit me hard. But I  _ promise _ you this is Not. Your. Fault.” Gods, she could feel  _ herself _ tearing up now. She wipes her face before PDZ could catch her, giving them time to process what she said. 

(She hoped Eddie would be proud of her.)

PDZ takes a moment to digest her words, understandable since they weren’t used to this kind of affection or praise (if it could be called that. But what did she know).

“Do you… do you really mean that?” They said, their voice cautiously hopeful.

“Yeah of course I do kid, why would I have any reason to lie about that?” And the second she says it PDZ’s crying into her shoulder again.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Leach puts on her best comforting voice, and she vaguely wonders if this is what it’s like to be a mother. (Eddie would’ve loved that. He would’ve been a great dad.)

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong I was just. So worried that you’d  _ hate _ me for not even  _ trying _ to save Eddie that I was convinced you’d never want to talk to me again and hearing… all of that it’s just  _ such _ a relief to hear.” They wipe their tears off their cheeks and smile at her. Leach just laughs to herself and for the first time in what feels like forever, she smiles.

“You know, you’re pretty alright, PDZ. You’re just too up in your head for your own good sometimes you know?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m working on it.”

Leach gives her a big hug, and helps her up.

“I’d love to have you stay here but I think I still need some time to myself, to work on a few things. But when I say go out there and kick some ass kid I really mean it, run along and be a good kid- or not, it’s up to you. Might wanna call your ride as well.” PDZ sends a text on her phone and Leach leads her to the door, and hugs her one last time before they go.

“Thanks again Leach, for not being mad. And for everything else. I am… sorry about Eddie though. Not in a blame way just in a I’m gonna miss him too way. I loved seeing you two on your lakeside walks, I’ll miss it.”

Her heart aches at the mention of Eddie. She can feel herself tearing up, but she manages to suck it up one last time so she doesn’t completely fall apart here.

“Yeah. I will too. Thanks for the condolences though, I’ll be sure to pass them on.” And just as she says it she catches a glimpse of the little red pickup that she had a feeling brought them here and waves one last goodbye to PDZ, nodding at Hew through the window as she watches them pull out of the parking lot.

And she was alone again.

And she was getting used to it. She didn’t really know how to feel about that.

She sits down on the bed and remembers what Hewitt tells her about not wallowing and making something productive out of it or whatever. 

She remembers what Burke said about listening to the Eddie in her head. She hopes he made it back alright.

She remembers, and she pulls out her computer and starts typing.

\------------------------------------

The shed in the far corner of the meadow is large, but barely big enough to fit a whole team and an entire tree inside of it. But the “shed” has now been converted into a “Borders” with the help of a sign and some paint. Made everything all professional looking, despite it being a small shed filed with blaseball equipment and Leach’s belongings.

Izzie shows up first. She takes a seat near what looks to be a makeshift podium made entirely of crushed Mountain Dlew cans, vape cartridges, and bones. She sets the large book she received in the mail yesterday next to her seat, and waves at Stew when she walks in. She asks if she knows why they’re here, and Izzie responds with a shrug.

One by one The Breath Mints all enter the shed, each just as confused as the last and holding a 900 page book with an identical cover. The chatter is friendly, but feels more like hushed whispers than anything else, Leach notes. She deserves that, she supposed. She takes a fat rip off her bong and shakes her bones out to loosen up. Just because she wasn’t getting wasted didn’t mean Eddie wouldn’t want her to have her  _ fun _ . He’d never want that. Gods she hoped that Burke got his copy of her book. It shouldn’t be this nerve wracking to talk to them but for some reason it feels like she’s preparing for the most important moment of her life.

She guesses that in some ways, this could very well be considered that moment.

With one last hit off her vape she blows a smoke ring and whispers a soft, but meaningful “nice” to herself and walks out onto the stage she has created for herself. Immediately she feels all eyes on her, watching, carefully trying to figure out what to make of her after her disappearing act. She pulls out the book and sets it on the stand. 

_ It's now or never. _

“Thanks for all being at my first and last ever book release. I’m glad you could all make it.” Deep breaths. Just keep talking, they won’t ask questions if you just keep talking about the book.

“ _ Eat Pray Leach: A Memoir _ by me, Leach Ingram, is a very deeply personal story to me and I’m so glad I could share it with you all. I trust you have all read it beforehand, but I will now read an excerpt from my magnum opus.”

She clears her throat and starts reading, “ _ I don’t remember when I was born. In fact, I don’t remember my first death even. I don’t remember a lot of my firsts actually, they were all far too long ago to be anything of note. But I will always remember the first time I met Eddie. _

_ He was floating there in the vast expanse and I didn’t even know his name, but I knew that I loved him. And that was enough for me.  _

_ I don’t know if he felt the same when we met, I guess I’ll never know now, but I like to think that he didn’t. I didn’t want love to be this easy because it never is, and I truthfully didn’t want to believe in love at first sight. I still don’t. I think I might have seen him and felt that bond between us, but in order to truly be loved and to give love was an act we chose on our own. We MADE it ours. We learned everything about each other and then some. We were everything and nothing all at once.  _

_ And then we died. _

_ And we kept coming back in different universes. _

_ And we kept not having the faintest clue who the other was until we saw each other again and suddenly it was like we first met all over again. When we get married it’s like the memories of all our past lives come rushing back to us, it is an experience I can’t even begin to describe as anything other than wholly euphoric and terrifying all at once. To know you are part of something so large that you are insignificant while being such a universal constant that you know that the only thing you CAN believe is what is right in front of you. _

She reads the whole thing. It’s not a good book, not by a long shot, but the team can’t help but feel enthralled by her words, the story of how she and Eddie met, all the ways they’ve been married, even all the petty squabbles they’ve had. It feels like the funeral for him that nobody asked for and nobody planned. It’s odd, but it’s comforting in its own way. Sometimes her “memoir” makes no sense, at times just her saying things that aren’t even relevant at  _ all _ to the story of her life (like recipes for soul cobbler) and somehow including an interactive element using the 100 pages of Rorschach tests in the middle of the book. In true Leach fashion she includes a tutorial on how to do her favorite vape tricks. It’s a strange sense of normalcy and a glimpse into the Leach the team knows and loves.

It’s nice.

5 hours later she reaches what looks to be the end, Hewitt notices that she takes a deep breath and sighs. She pauses for a minute, looks around the room and up to the sky, as if searching for something- some _ one. _ He can sense the melancholy radiating from her, and he gets the sense that if liches could cry, this is what they’d look like. 

She continues, seemingly unphased,  _ “There are very few Leach Ingrams that exist without her Eddie Ingram. I actually think that the number of Leach’s without their Eddie’s is closer to zero than anything. _

_ Maybe I am the first. _

_ Maybe I will be the last. _

_ But I swear on these asshole gods that I WILL find out what happened to him. Because I KNOW that this cannot be the end. I KNOW we will see each other again if it fucking kills me. _

_ But until then I will be a Leach Ingram that exists without her Eddie once more, and I will avenge him if it is the last thing I do. Not for him, but for me. _

_ Because why would I do it for anyone else? I’m my own person, after all. _

_ I don’t need Eddie to live a fulfilling life, I have one of those on my own. But having him here makes life so much richer. So much FULLER. So much more worth living for, worth risking your life to play blaseball for. _

_ My name is Leach Ingram and I will be the Leach to bring her husband back, or die trying. What that means I don’t know yet, and I don’t think I’m being literal, but we’ll see in time. _

_ I’m not ok and I don’t think I ever will be, but I’m gonna keep living to spite the fucking gods that want me dead.” _

She takes a deep breath and closes the book, looking up to her audience- her  _ team _ for the first time in hours (days, if she’s being honest) and tries to get a feel of the room. The first person she sees is PDZ, who is crying, but she expected this, but she didn’t expect half the room to be crying as well. Even Rod seemed to be tearing up. Hewitt was smiling, that cocky bastard knowing he was right for making her channel her feelings. Boyfriend looked… embarrassed to say the least. But also sad. Hew sees her looking at them and gives her a very pointed stare that suggests she talk to them, so she rolls her eyes and swallows her pride, walking over to them.

“Leach I-”

“Not another word, Boyfriend.” They look up at her, eyes filled with worry and fear. She shakes her head and puts a hand on their shoulder. “You’re fine. You just wanted to help. I’m not forgiving you because I was pretty clear I wanted to be left alone and that I’d work it out and it felt like you were patronizing me, which was pretty shitty dude. But I’m saying we’re gonna move on from this. I am sorry that I yelled at you. At ALL of you” she turns to face the whole room now. All eyes were on her, but it was strangely comforting now that she had just read her entire memoir to them. 

She smiles then turns back to Boyfriend, “Thanks for being concerned though, that was pretty sick of you.” She sticks her hand out as a sign of goodwill, and they take it, smiling. The team was pretty alright.

She wasn’t ok, and she might never be, but she knows the team’s got her back, and that’s what matters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you SO much for reading! This is the longest thing I have written in my LIFE and I am relieved that it is over but IMMENSELY proud of this. The working title for this fic was "Let Leach Be Sad #420BlaseIt" and I think I really lived up to that, so yeehaw.
> 
> Also the thing that Leach was talking about with the feeling like something was preventing Eddie from really dying was a reference to the Hall and how it sort of just... keeps people on the material plane without letting them really DIE. I think that as a lich and someone who has lived MULTIPLE lifetimes she'd be connected to death at least a little, and thus be able to figure out that something is a little weird about the Immaterial Plane.
> 
> Also also I love Burke Gonzales and also the wings and think that Leach should be friends with Burke but in the way where they never actually talk to each other or hang out and just had this one extremely intimate moment of emotional vulnerability and basically never talk to each other again. But if either of them asked they'd be ride or die for the other and I think that's beautiful.
> 
> Additional shout out to Tess and Caz who helped me a lot with thinking this fic through and also encouraging me to write it because oh boy did I need a lot of it.
> 
> Thanks again for reading and I hope you enjoyed it! You can find me on tumblr at taketheringtolohac


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